


Humans Are The Worst Kind Of Monsters

by fandomsaremycrutch



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, But they try, Comforting Dean Winchester, Comforting Sam Winchester, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dean and sam don't get it, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Nightmares, No Wincest, Past Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Sexual Abuse, Past Underage Sex, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Dean Winchester, Protective Sam Winchester, Winchester Sandwich
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-05
Updated: 2016-02-05
Packaged: 2018-05-18 08:25:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5913367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fandomsaremycrutch/pseuds/fandomsaremycrutch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Winchesters discover that the hunter who's been staying in the bunker with them is afraid of the dark. They try (and fail at first) to understand what haunts her. Eventual hurt/comfort and Winchester sandwich (Yay)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Humans Are The Worst Kind Of Monsters

**Author's Note:**

> First off: ALL CREDIT to the title goes to the utterly amazing Girl_WithTheDirtyMind she is my absolute fav here and graciously gave me permission to use her line. If you haven't checked her out I highly recommend her. Also mad thanks to my lovely Kmomodf for editing this for me. Without her I would never post. Warnings: All warnings are in reference to past events. No underage, rape, or violence happen with or from the Winchesters. With that being said there is some pretty heavy past abuse in later chapters so please proceed with caution if that is a trigger for you. Also there are very brief and vague mentions of self harm. This is meant to be a comfort fic but there has to be hurt in order for there to be comfort. Enjoy lovelies and thanks!

“Dean, just calm down it’s not that big of a deal.” Sam implores, trying to calm his big brother down. 

“Not a big deal? Sammy she’s friggin afraid of the dark! We can’t have someone hunting with us who’s friggin afraid of the dark!” Dean argues. 

From my crouched position around the corner in the hallway I watch him pacing back and forth, back and forth, in and out of my eyeline of the library. Every so often, I see him with one hand on his hip and the other drywashing his face. It would be endearing if circumstances weren’t as they are. 

“You don’t know that Dean!” Sam says, voice gruff, face twitching, nose scrunched up, lips jutting out and corners turning up. He throws his arms up in exasperation, “She’s been hunting with us for months. She’s a good hunter!” 

I have only been living in the bunker for a couple months, but long enough for the boys to notice that I never, ever sleep without the light on. Of course I’m not afraid of the dark. I am a hunter. I have hunted so many nights just fine, I’m at home in the dark. I know my way around. I am not afraid of the dark. 

At least not when I’m awake

I bring a hand up to my mouth trying to choke back a sob. Tears stream down my face while I continue listening to the boys I’ve grown to think of family doubt me. It hurts, but what’s worse is I understand why they do. Hell, how do I even defend myself from that? 

Dean just groans. “Yea and for months she hasn’t slept a single night without the light on!” his voice lowered, slightly more serious. “It’s gone on too long, Sammy.”

“Look Dean, maybe we should just talk to her, see what’s really going on.” Sam’s voice is calm, clearly trying to analyze the facts of the situation, as usual. 

At that Dean scoffs.“I think it’s pretty obvious what’s going on Sammy!” 

More tears fall as I slump down against the wall. Of course they have jumped to this conclusion. What else are they supposed to think? 

“Dean why now?” Sam starts again, hand extended to his brother. “I mean we’ve been with her for months, why are you so worried about it now?” 

Dean scoffs again, and throws his arms up “I don’t know Sammy! I just can’t ignore it anymore! I mean what if we get into a hairy situation and she can’t help because she’s fucking scared of what goes bump in the night! That’s what we do! Hunt what goes bump in the night!” 

Sam’s face twitches again and he let out a breath, “I don’t think that’s going to happen Dean. We’ve hunted at night with her plenty of times. And besides when we’re on the road, she leaves the motel lights off.” 

“Oh that’s supposed to make me feel better?” Dean’s voice elevates, revealing how pissed is really is. “So she can sleep in the dark when we’re there?! As if we’re the only ones supposed to protect her from the big bad!” 

I’m practically biting my hand to muffle my sobs. Because, fuck, he’s not wrong. I can sleep in the dark when they are in the room with me. But this isn’t for the reasons they seem to think it is. I can handle myself just fine against the demons, vamps, and all the supernatural out there. Hell, I’m actually damn good at that. Because those are not what I am afraid of.

“She can take care of herself Dean!” Sam comes to my defense. At least he is trying to get Dean to see reason but, clearly, the older man looks like he’s having none of it. “Look we won’t know unless we just talk to her.” 

I appreciate it, but he still doesn’t understand, neither of them do. And, honestly, I’m not sure i want to make them. I don’t want them to look at me that way. With pity. 

Dean lets out an over exaggerated sigh “A whole lotta good that’ll do Sammy! She ain’t exactly an open book!” 

Sam gives him his best irritated bitch face “We haven’t even tried Dean!” 

Dean collapses into a chair at the large table in the center of the room, muttering about women and feelings. Neither of which he has a clue how to handle. Sam approaches the table to sit down. Once Dean has finally semi calmed down maybe they could have an actual conversation about this. At that moment however, I accidently let out a sob as I try to get up from the floor and my cursed boot screeches on the tile. 

Dean looks up from where he has his head in his hands “Was that..” 

Before he even finished his sentence Sam is up out of his chair, with surprising grace for a giant, and around the corner. Dean follows shortly after and they looked down to see me, a crumpled, sobbing mess on the floor.

Before they can even say my name, I’m up off the floor in a flash and racing down the hallway towards my room. I know it is probably stupid to run from them, and kind of childish but I just can’t face them right now. 

Making it to my room in record time, I barely resist the urge to slam the door; closing it, instead, with as little force as possible and hurling myself on my bed. 

Not even a few moments later, I hear the boys arguing outside my door. 

“Dammit Dean.” Sam says more than a little exasperated. Actually, he sounds perfectly angry with his older brother. 

“What? Don’t act like this is my fault Sammy” Dean says, voice gruff, and I can imagine him trying his best to return Sam’s bitch face. 

They are so not helping. Fucking Winchesters and emotions, man. This is not what I need right now! But then again I wonder, Do I have the right to be upset? I mean they’re not all that wrong. 

This just makes me cry harder, though, and feel even more weak and pathetic than usual.

“Look we just want to talk.” Sam urges through the door, and it take me a second to realize he’s talking to me. Dean remains silent probably per Sam’s request. 

“I really don’t want to talk to you right now” I barely manage to not shout at them. Because no way in hell do they get to see me like this! 

At that Dean grumbles, “Oh quit being a Baby..” 

“Dean!” Sam cuts him off! “Ok look we’ll give you some space but you have to come out and talk to us eventually ok?” 

I begrudgingly nod into my pillow before realizing they can’t actually see me. The brothers seemed to get the message though, as I track their footsteps retreating down the hallway. I heave a sigh mixed sob into my pillow. I knew it had to come out eventually, but I hoped it wouldn’t be like this. So I begin strategizing. 

Do I have to tell them? How much do I have to tell them? I could just tell them a little right? Just enough to appease them right?!? I argue with myself trying to find a way out of this. Dean was right. I’m not an open book. There’s a reason for that, and the last thing I want to do is open up about my quite literal worst nightmares. Noticing my ugly crying has stopped at last, I pull myself up into a sitting position and try to get it together. Sitting with my legs cross on my bed and my pillow hugged tightly to my chest, I begin my breathing exercises. A smile plays at my wet face at what Dean would think of them. If he ever caught me he would probably call it some “Bullshit hippie crap” Laughing to myself I use the end of my long sleeve to wipe my tears and take a mental check of myself before taking one final deep breath and opening my door. Padding down the tile hall I check that my thumbs are through the holes in my sleeves, effectively covering my wrists. They always are, but it’s a nervous habit to check. Peeking around the corner of the library, I see the brothers seated at the table. 

Dean has his legs kicked up and crossed on a chair with a beer in hand. Sam’s hair is falling in his face as his head is burried in a book. They seem to have significantly calmed down since earlier. 

I wish I could say the same. I think, sighing to myself. Rounding the corner, I meekly peek my head out. Normally I’m quite loud and confident around the boys, but at times like these my initial shyness and instincts kick in like when I first met them. Really not knowing what to say at all, I just kind of stand there, leaning against the cold wall. Dammit why do I freeze up at times like this?! Maybe they are right about me! I mentally curse myself. 

Of course I don’t go unnoticed by the boys for long, hunter instincts and all. After hearing Sam clear his throat, I look up from the spot on my boot to find the boys just staring at me. Immediately my gaze drops down to the polished wood floor. I stay there frozen, arms folded into myself as the boys look at me expectantly. 

“Well are you just going to stand there and cower in the corner, sweetheart?” Dean starts sardonically. “Or are you gonna buck up and come talk to us like a big girl?” I cower more at his words. Which isn’t right since I’m usually just as much of a brat back. Just as I’m about to make another break for my room, Dean kicks his legs from off the chair, sending it teetering. “Oh for Christ's sake.” He moves towards me rather aggressively and every instinct is yelling at me to run. I know deep down that Dean would never hurt me, but this right here is what I am afraid of. He makes it over to me in record time and the second he reaches out to grab my arm, I flinch. Violently. I can’t help it. As soon as he sees my reaction, however, his face falls and he drops his outreached arm immediately. Dean bends down so that his eyes are level with mine, but he’s careful not to touch me. “Hey, hey look at me.” My eyes remain glued on my boot. “I’m not going to hurt you. You know that right?” A tear slips involuntarily down my face. I kick myself, Gods I am a mess, why can’t I just look at him. Dean’s eyes furrow and he has to resist reaching out to raise my gaze to his. “Sweetheart, you gotta tell us what is going on with you.” 

After staying frozen for a beat, it takes every ounce of strength left in me to follow him to the table. I focus on putting one foot in front of the other. Eyes glued down to my boots. After what seems like ages of a death march I finally reach the table. Dean pulls out a chair for me that was right next to his, and across from Sam’s. Shit. This is the last place I want to be sitting. Next to the irritated hunter and sitting across from sympathetic puppy eyes. I would much rather be at the end of the table as far away from the hunters scrutiny as possible. I don’t dare resist the offered seat though. That would only piss Dean off more, and I don’t have the energy to fight him on it. Very reluctantly, I lower myself into the pulled out chair, and scrunch into it, making myself as small as possible. My eyes find a spot on my jeans and they remain glued there as I try to focus my breathing. 

After waiting a few minutes, the boys seem to realize I won’t start, and Sam clears his throat. “Look, we know you’re a good hunter. That’s not in question here.” He shoots Dean a look as he looks like he’s about to speak. “We just don’t understand how someone, a hunter, like you would be uh-” He clears his throat one more time searching for the right words. 

“Scared of the dark.” Dean finishes for him, speaking what was on everyone's minds. Sam gives Dean a look, but it’s obvious that that had been what he wanted to say. My eyes remain glued on my lap and I start fiddling with the zipper on my jacket. After waiting more for me to speak, Dean interrupts the silence. His voice is velvet and so full of concern, it throws me off. “Sweetheart, what is up with you?” 

Taking a deep breath I look up to see Sam’s large chocolate eyes imploring me to speak. While Dean’s sparkling green ones are focused much too intently on mine. Immediately I drop my eyes back down and take two big deep breaths. Opening my mouth to speak takes all the strength I am able to muster. “I’m not afraid of the dark.” My voice is small and meek. “I mean, at least I’m not when I’m awake.” Realization seems to start to dawn on the boys. I plow on. “When I’m awake I can fight the-” my voice breaks , but I recover hoping they didn’t notice. “I can fight. But when I’m asleep that’s when the monsters come.” I realize my mistake at using the word monster immediately but I push through, again hoping they overlook it. “When I’m asleep I’m defenseless.” 

Then I hear something that makes my blood rise. 

Dean laughs. 

He fucking laughs!

Here I am opening up about my deepest fears and there he fucking is, laughing at me! “Nightmares?!” Dean scoffs. “That’s what this is about? Nightmares?” He’s incredulous. Much to my shame, tears begins to silently pour down my face. I frantically tug the zipper on my jacket up and down, caught between wanting to shove my foot through his condescending face and dying in a deep dark pit. “Sweetheart you think we don’t have nightmares?!” Dean throws his arms up in the air. “I’ve been to Hell for Christ’s sake, so has Sammy! I have nightmares every Goddamn night, but do you see us sleeping with the lights on?!” 

When Sam speaks I expect him to come to my defense, but what he says instead leaves my mouth hanging open. “Dean’s right, I mean it is kind of ridiculous.” 

I am shocked. I want to scream at them. Tell them that I would rather face actual Hell every night, then the Hell I have had to live with inside! I don’t though. I am completely frozen. My hand has stilled on my jacket and I stay there, every limb frozen still. 

Dean’s voice rises. “Well?” 

The brothers stare at me, waiting for me to defend myself, do something, say something, and had this been another topic on another night, I probably would have done both. Instead, I slowly rise from my seat. Every muscle is stiff. My movement is robotic as I leave the room slowly, eyes in a daze. I barely register the brothers calling my name as I focus on getting to my room. Once there, I slowly lower myself onto my bed and just sit there. Arms hugging my legs curled up into my chest, I stare at a fixed point on the wall. I sit there for a minute, an hour, maybe an entire year just staring, mind numb. Absently, I think about my game plan. Fleeting thoughts of packing my bag or reaching in the nightstand for my old friend come to me. But ultimately I just sit there, completely dazed. 

Tears have stopped falling over thirty minutes ago and they just lie on my face dry and sticky. Eventually, I hear a knock on my door. 

“Can I come in?” Dean’s uncharastically polite voice rings through the hardwood between me. I remain silent as he tries the lock. “Sweetheart, you need to come out eventually.” After pausing he adds, “I made dinner.” I allow myself just a fraction of a smile. If there’s one thing the brothers know about me, it’s that food is my trump card. Dean plays it, and leaves it at that. I hear his boots retreat down the hallway and I sigh. 

Well if I’m leaving, I might as well get a good meal in first. 

A raw chuckle bubbles out of my throat as I curse at my weakness to food, especially if it’s Dean’s cooking. Slowly, I unfold myself from my huddled position. Not really even bothering to dry my face or clean myself up, I head towards the kitchen. I’m still in a daze and at this point I don’t give a shit if the brothers see how much of a mess I am. 

“There she is!” Dean’s tone is light and playful, arms outstretched in welcome. “I knew you couldn’t resist my cooking sweetheart.” 

Sam gestures for me to sit at the table, once again across from him. My eyes bug when Dean sets a giant plate in front of me. It’s my favorite meal. Instead of being happy however, my mind panics. 

They are kicking me out, oh no this is my polite goodbye meal. Tears prick my face again as I stare at the food. 

“Ah hell. Why are you crying now, Sweetheart?” Dean lowers himself into the seat next to me with his own food. 

I push my plate away. “You don’t have to do this, just get it over with and kick me out. I understand.” 

The boys faces flash in confusion and panic. 

“Woah, who said anything about kicking you out?” Sam says, shocked. 

“It’s ok I get it,” I shrug, trying to play it off nonchalantly. “You can’t have someone like me hunting with you. You didn’t have to do this though, I’d rather you just give it to me straight.” 

Sam’s face is one of pure shock. 

“Sweetheart, look at me.” Dean resists reaching out to grab my hand, remembering how I had flinched earlier. I hesitantly raised my eyes to meet his emerald ones. 

“We are not kicking you out.” Sam butts in, still floored with this information. “We just need to know what’s going on with you.” 

I gesture to my plate. “Then why do all this?” 

Dean chuckles a little, still holding my eyes “Sweetheart, this is my way of apologizing.” 

I just stare at him. 

“Yea, I mean we were kind of uh-” Sam clears his throat. 

“Dicks” Dean finishes for him. I smile just a little. “Will you please just eat Sweetheart, I worked hard on this.” 

My smile grows, Dean is always so proud of his cooking. As I dig in, the brothers wait a minute to start. It would have been nice if they waited until after I finished eating to continue interrogating me, but the brothers know food will calm me. 

Sam’s voice is soft and hesitant. “What do you mean someone like you?” I choke. Dammit, guys, really? Can’t you just drop it? “Please, we can’t help if we don’t know.” 

I swallow, slowly thinking over a response before I meet concerned puppy eyes. “You can’t help Sam.” I look over at Dean’s longing face. “Neither of you can, this is just something I deal with.” I take a breath and try to raise my voice to match my usual [false] confident demeanor. “I’m sorry that this is causing trouble for you guys, but I swear-” I swallow again. “This doesn’t affect my hunting.” 

“But what is this, exactly?” Sam prods again at the topic gently. I know he’s trying to understand. “Is it just the nightmares?” 

I intently focus on my meal. I can’t do this. Not with them. 

“Sweetheart, please talk to us.” Dean’s face is full of empathy. “Hand to God I won’t laugh again.” He grins slightly, trying to lighten the mood, but I can tell he is serious. 

I gulp. “I just have some past Demons ok? We all do.” I try my hardest to hold back tears. Gods I’m a mess. “I’m not afraid of the dark, not really. When I’m awake I know I can protect myself. But when I’m asleep I’m vulnerable.” The brothers are completely focused on me. “It took a really long time for me to get to where I am now, but I can’t help the nightmares. I can manage the flashbacks and the panic attacks, but I’m useless in my sleep! I can’t-” 

I stop there, horrified that I’ve shared that much. 

Sam’s voice is soft, “This isn’t about monsters is it?” 

“No, it is.” I nod my head. My voice is so small. “The worst kind.” 

“What is it Sweetheart?” Dean asks lowly. “What haunts you?” 

Wishing instead that I have more food to focus on, I take a deep breath. “Humans.” 

My voice is so quiet I’d be surprised if the boys heard me. 

But they did. Of course they did.

**Author's Note:**

> Ok so I had originally intended for this to be a reader fic. So, that's why she is never named and there is no descriptions of the character. I didn't think it would be fitting leaving it a reader fic though, since I am going to proceed to give a detailed backstory. What do ya'll think? Should I leave her vague and unnamed? or should I develop the character? Please don't spare my feelings in the comments! I really want to know what ya'll think! Sidenote: If you follow Dean's Sweetheart, I AM SO SORRY!! Shit hit the fan and I just kind of stopped everything but I am getting back to it and everything else I promised, I swear! Much love.


End file.
